


The Courting of Pattie O'Tooley

by PvtBear



Category: Tombstone Territory
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Love, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18581749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PvtBear/pseuds/PvtBear
Summary: Pattie O'Tooley has the shock of her life when her parents unexpectedly arrive in Tombstone. With the help of Clay Hollister, Pattie must find a way to tell her parents the truth before a hell breaks loose in the town of Tombstone.





	The Courting of Pattie O'Tooley

April 22nd, 1881.  
It was a spring day like any other. Tombstone bustled like bees on what would seem like any other Saturday afternoon. The town was home to many different backgrounds; Hispanics, Chinese, and the Irish.  
Riding into town was a particularly well known Irish rancher, Pattie O' Tooley. She had arrived three years ago, by herself, on the stage from Tucson. It caught most of the town off guard; Pattie O'Tooley strolling into the land agency. She wore brown calf-high boots with blue jeans tucked into them, a faded pink shirt with a blue bandana and a custom made brown Stetson. Her hair was as red as fire and her eyes the color of emeralds. Her attitude was kind and gentle, but could turn into a wildcat if she was riled the wrong way. The ranch of Pattie O'Tooley lay four miles Northeast of Tombstone containing at least two hundred head of cattle. Her trips into town occurred at least once a month and were always looked forward to by the young men who grappled for her affection.

The evening stage had just rolled out as Ms. O'Tooley rolled in on a black buggy driven by her foreman Brian O'Connor. He was an older man with much experience handling spreads. He was a true Irishman, with a thick accent and a strong tolerance for liquor. In most towns, the Irish were run off and considered troublemakers, but for Tombstone the Irish were welcomed and thought to be hard workers and honest folk. At least that was the consensus until Pattie O' Tooley should up that evening.

Sheriff Clay Hollister had been walking his rounds when he approached the hotel. He smiled as he saw the Irish woman taking a suitcase from the black buggy. He adjusted his hat and approached the young woman.

"Evening Ms. O'Tooley. Staying in town tonight?" He smirked as the young woman turned toward him. She smirked back, put her bag down and acted as if she had to think about his question.

"Well now." Her once thick Irish accent was now only slight as the American West drawl had become more prevalent.

"I seem to have my bag and it seems too late to be going home. So I thought to meself why not stay at a hotel!" Her laughter was contagious for Hollister which caused him to chuckle along. "Ya caught me sheriff. Me parents telegraphed me saying they were sending a surprise on the morning stage tomorrow."

"A surprise?" Hollister raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Maybe they sent you a husband to tame you finally!" He braced for the sure to come slap and was not disappointed. Pattie scoffed, balled her fist and swung into his shoulder.

"Well, you'd be surprised sheriff. Cause I quite possibly found meself a man, don't need anyone's help!"

"Oh now!" Sheriff Hollister's eyebrows raised. "And who might this poor lad be?"  
The proud smile faded from Pattie's face. "That is not the concern of a sheriff!" She blushed as she picked up her bag.

"Well if I was him, I wouldn't be caught dead courting a cowhand looking girl. I'd make her wear a dress!" Hollister skirted across the street as fast as he could before Pattie O'Tooley's fist could connect with his shoulder again.

"That's right sheriff, run away!" She grabbed a rock and hurled it in his direction. He ducked in time as the rock splintered against the wood beam. He stood up smiling and watched the now flustered woman stomp into the hotel.

April 23, 1883

Sheriff Clay Hollister had been called out to investigate a possible theft at a known feuding ranch. Pattie O' Tooley was standing in front of the American Hotel picking dirt from underneath her nails. The morning stage rolled in on time to the Wells Fargo office building. Pattie nonchalantly watched as the passengers filed off the red wooden stage. Her eyes widened and she let out a high pitched squeak causing the men around her to jump. She held her Stetson as she ran down the boardwalk. Pattie opened the large, maple door and slammed it just as quickly; with adrenaline coursing through her body she scanned the office. The bewildered deputy Quint sat in the chair, his right hand holding a stack of cards while his left was stuck in mid flip of a facedown card.

"Where's the sheriff?" Pattie hissed while looking out the window.  
"He's out at Barley's ranch. Is there..." He asked in an innocent voice.  
"When does he return?" She replied while still looking out the window.  
"Maybe an hour or less. Pattie if I can..." He was cut off again.  
"NO!" She yelled at the deputy turning around hand raised at him to stop. "If anyone, and I mean anyone, asks for the sheriff tell them he's gone!" Quint narrowed his eyes at the young lady who in turn glared back.

"This is life and death! Do you hear me? Life and death!"  
"Do you need help Pattie?" He stood up concerned placing the deck of cards on the table. "Do I look it? No! I don't need help, not from you!" She snapped back as she turned back to the window. A squeak left her rosey lips causing the deputy to jump.

"Please Quint, do me this favor! The sheriff is gone, tell them that!" Opening the door, she looked to the left, grabbed her Stetson and ran to the right down the boardwalk; the door shutting rapidly.

Quint sat down shaking his head and returning to his game. Once again he found himself in mid flip of the facedown card when a couple strolled through the door. Quint looked up to see an older man and woman staring at him. The older man wore a faded gray jacket on top of a dark green vest and white shirt. He wore tan pants which stopped mid calf. Gray wool socks began at the base of the pants, which were tucked into them and ended at black brogans. In the corner of his mouth, a small celtic design, wooden pipe.

The woman wore a plaid green and red striped dress with plain brown shoes. She carried a small, brown leather suitcase in her right hand while a small green coin purse hung off her left. Her faded red hair was neatly braided into a tight bun.

Quint's mouth slowly opened as he realized he was looking at an older version of the woman who just left the office.

"Aye there son. Would you happen to be Sheriff Clay Hollister?"  
Deputy Quint quickly shut his mouth, swallowed, and stood up. "No sir, I'm the sheriff's deputy."  
The older man looked discouraged and a little upset. "Well, where might we be finding the sheriff hiding at?"  
"Hiding?" Quint looked at him confused.  
The older man laughed at the young man's expression. "Youngin, where would he be at?"  
"He would be at a ranch, sheriff business." Replied Quint.  
"And he is due back when?" The young deputy checked his watch and scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Maybe an hour or two." He paused. "Or maybe all day. Hard to tell with him sometimes." He added after while shrugging his shoulders.

"Aye. We'll mosey around a bit and stop in later then." The older man tipped his flimsy old top hat while the woman smiled and proceeded to follow her husband out the door. Quint watched the couple walk back the way they came. He sat down, picked up his deck again, and stared at the facedown card debating if it was worth flipping.

Clay Hollister had ridden back into town leading a handcuffed man an hour after the incidents in the office. He tiredly swung off the saddle, brushing dust from his pants and white shirt. The prisoner jumped from the saddle landing with a thud, smiled at Hollister and walked into the office. Editor Harris Claibourne met the weary man at the door. His cheerful, morning smile did nothing to dent the annoyed look plastered on the peace officer's face.

"Quint!" Hollister yelled into the office. "Lock this man up!"  
"What's the inside story on this one Clay?" The editor asked pushing his hat back and smiling. "Same as always Harris, but this time Sheridan stole four chickens and Tully is pressing charges!" Hollister tossed his hat ontop the shelf and hung his gun belt underneath. He went to the water basin and splashed a few handfuls into his eyes before drying them off with a towel. The leather chair comforted his sore back and the young man sighed. The feud between the Stenson and Tully range was becoming a nuesome for the town. Hollister had been the mediator for a land dispute for a couple of months with no end in sight.

"Um Clay there is something you need to..." Quint had begun explaining the earlier events when a woman busted through the door causing all the men to stop and stare. She pressed her back to the door taking in big gulps of air, her white laced hat covered her face. She slowly pulled off the white silk gloves and tucked them into the white ribboned belt around her waist. She wore a light pink dress with white stockings and shoes to match. Her red hair was braided down her left shoulder with a pink bow at the end.

"I'll tell you what Clay, I don't know how women can breathe with all this crap on. I can barely run in this get up!"

Hollister stood up from the chair, placed his hand on the desk and leaned forward as he recognized the voice.

"Pattie?" He questioned.

"Well, I have definitely died and gone to heaven. You look stunning Ms. O'Tooley." Exclaimed the editor.  
"Oh shut your trap Mr. Editor. I don't need any of that fancy talking!" She snapped back as she turned toward the window. Her squeak caused the stun men to become alarmed. Pattie pushed off the door and grabbed Hollister's arms while looking into his eyes.

"Please Clay, please don't get angry and just play along." His confused look was soon answered by the opening of his door. Pattie stepped aside, folded her hands in front of her, and put her head down.

The older man smiled at her and then at the sheriff. "Clay Hollister?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

The sheriff stood up from his desk and hooked his hands into his belt loop. "That's me. What can I do for you sir?" The older man threw his hands in the air and laughed before grabbing Hollister's hands and violently shaking them.

"Aye, I am so grateful to finally be shaking your hand sonny!" Hollister made eye contact with Harris who looked equally confused. He then looked at Pattie who covered half her face with a gloved hand and nervously looked back at him.

"I can't figure out a reason for you to be so thrilled to meet me sir. Mind explaining your business here?"

The old man continued laughing. He dropped Hollister's hand and embraced Pattie before looking back at the officer. "Oh my sweet daughter, I honestly thought you were fooling us in your letters. But seeing him before us, I can see ye got yerself a handsome one." Pattie half smiled at the older man and Hollister before going to embrace the woman.

"I'm sorry, can someone explain what is going on here?" Hollister remarked.  
"It is a little bit of a shock seeing your future father-in-law I bet!" Laughed the old man.

"His what?" Questioned Harris and Quint.

"My...my what?" Echoed Hollister as he tried to blink away the confusion.

The older man came to the other side of the desk, embraced Hollister, and kissed him on the forehead. "You are the perfect son-in-law, I could ask for none better!" He exclaimed. Hollister went from smiling to becoming purely shocked. He stepped back and grabbed the back of his chair.

"You're what?" He asked again looking to his friends for assistance. Quint stood mouth open while Harris sat on the banister smiling and trying to stop himself from laughing. Pattie stepped forward smashing her lips together and flaring her nostrils. She looked into the bewildered man's eyes.

"Clay. This is my father Patrick O'Tooley and my mother Sarah O'Tooley. They are the surprise that came all from mainland Ireland. They are here because?" Pattie turned to her father, eyebrows raising as she waited for his answer.

"We came to help with the wedding!" Patrick stated as he walked back to his wife who stood embarrassed in front the group.

"Wedding?" Pattie and Clay stated in unison. Quint and Harris stared at each other both trying to contain the laughter after staring at the confused, tired face of their friend.

Pattie stepped forward grasping her father by the shoulders. "What wedding papa? I have not said anything about a wedding!" The men in the room could hear Pattie trying to stifle her anger.

"Aye ya see." He took his top hat off and began playing with the rim nervously. "Ye ma and I wanted to surprise ya. We been loving your letters and always wanted to see the grand United States of America, so we decided to come and get ye both married at the same time." Clay Hollister put his hands on hips. He held his hand up to stop the talking.

"Can we stop and..." He began before being cut off by Pattie. "Papa! You can't just spring a surprise on someone like this! You need to give people warning! We both have lives and something like this can't just happen spontaneously."

Clay gave Pattie a look that pretty much accused her of being hypocrite after that statement. She responded by giving a dismissing look and telling him to remain quiet. She let go of her father and sighed while turning away.

"Aye, I get it girl. I'm sorry, you know how I can't contain meself sometimes! We'll let ya go to think it out. The wedding is gonna be all our expenses!" He grabbed his wife around the arm and they strolled through the door together. Pattie closed the door and let out a sigh. She threw her hat on the extra desk and sat on the banister.

"That was better than I expected." She remarked.

"Pattie!" Hollister growled. "I for one can't wait for a wedding! It's been too long since our last one, six months now?" He asked looking at the editor.

"Roughly. I can't wait for tomorrow's headline 'Wedding bells for Sheriff Hollister'. The town will love it!" The two men laughed as Hollister glared at them.

"NO! This is not your exclusive for the week Harris. If I find this anywhere in the paper, you will be sued for libel! Now get out you two, Pattie and I need to have a talk!" Quint and Harris began leaving, but not without a few more snarky remarks.

"Looks like a love bird quarrel!" Quint joked.

"Wedding plans need to be discussed in secret." Replied Harris.

Hollister watched them leave, mixed emotions built up inside of him. He stared at the woman who stared back at him.

"Don't give me that look Clay Hollister. I was just as surprised about this as you!" She marched toward the coffee pot and threw it down for it was empty.

"You wrote them letters about us?"

"Well ya, I mean every girl has a crush on you at first. I didn't think anything would come of it."

"What did you say in these letters?" He responded through gritted teeth.

"Just how you and I were in love, but that was it!"

"Then why do they think we are engaged?" He nearly yelled.

Pattie shook her head up and down. "Might have mentioned it once." She looked at the sheriff who was pushing back his hair. He walked around to his desk and sat on the edge.

"Look Clay you don't understand!"

"Explain it then." He responded calmly this time as he bit the tip of his thumb.

"My father always wanted a son, but he got me instead. Don't you think it was weird a young lady like me coming here by meself? I promised my father that I would get a husband if I came to America, that was five years ago. I had no intention of getting a man, I am independent cause that is how my stubborn father raised me. I have a spread, my own, no one helped me raise it. I needed to tell him someone was interested! You were what he wanted, a strong willed man."

"Why not tell him about the man you are courting?"

She gasped. "He is of English background. My father would have my hide to think of loving a man with that background. Trust me Clay, I have no feeling for you. Just play along til they leave for Ireland. I can get him off the idea of a wedding. Calm down now!"

"Calm down? I just found out I'm engaged and married!"

"Look for the time being, you own me ranch." "Pattie, I don't know anything about ranching!" "Don't worry Clay, I will protect you from them as best as I can." "You need to tell them Pattie!" "Clay I can't! You're job is to help citizens, now help me!" Hollister threw his hands in the air and walked to the jail door. He balled his fists and banged against the door.

"Don't worry Clay, I'd never fall for you!" She left him standing, mouth open in shock and alone. From behind the jail cell door came a rough voice.

"Congratulations on the engagement sheriff!" The voice chuckled. Annoyed, Hollister strode back and shut the door. He grabbed his gun belt and hat, opened his office door and slammed it shut.

Hollister quickly walked to the Epitaph office. He opened the door to find his friend writing on a piece of paper.

"You know, I never thought you would keep your proposal to Ms. O'Tooley a secret! Do I get to be the best man?" Hollister glared at his laughing friend. He sat down in a chair and buried his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do Harris. Face the wrath of Pattie or be kept in a lie." He began fiddling with his hat. "Out of all the men in town, she picked me. I can't figure out why." Harris sat back in his chair, bit his pen and contemplated with his worried friend.

"I can't give you advice on this one Clay. Never had something like this happen to me or anyone I know! Getting any weird feelings about this?

"Weird feelings? Like having your whole life changed in a blink of an eye? No, Harris, no weird feeling like something isn't right here!" He sarcastically replied. He stared at his smiling friend for a long time.

"You can't print this Harris. You can't write a headline about this, I mean it. This could cause problems if it gets out."

"Nothing to fear from me Clay. I promise, I myself, will not say anything by pen or paper." Harris remarked while Hollister half smiled and stood. He put his hat on and began walking toward the door. Across the street, at the general store, Brian O'Connor was loading goods onto a buckboard. Hollister briskly walked toward him after leaving the Epitaph.

"Sheriff." He nodded toward the young man while he continued packing the buckboard.

"Brian, have you talked to Pattie today?"

"Might have, depending on what you mean." The man remarked while packing sacks of flour on top of each other..

Hollister grabbed his arm and leaned in close. "The 'surprise' that came on the morning stage." He whispered.

The foreman nodded and chuckled to himself. "Yup. Said that all four of ya would be coming out to your ranch later this evening."

"My ranch. Please no, don't play along Brian!" Hollister pleaded. He pushed back his hat and placed his hands on his hips while let out a huff.

"Talk some sense into her! This can't be happening."

"No can do Clay." He chuckled while turning to look at the peace officer.

"Why not?"

"First, you and I both know Pattie won't listen to either of us. Making up her mind for her is like trying to milk a wildcat, ain't happening. Second, it's kinda fun watching you squirm. Can tell this is your first time dealing with a full blooded Irish family; it's more fun sitting back and watching this unfold."

"Why you old, sneaky, red headed..."

"Watch what you say to us Irish folk sheriff. Might have a scuffle you can't win headed your direction if you keep this up! You're in enough trouble to begin with, now let me be." He walked back into the general store leaving Hollister to curse under his breath. The officer started down the boardwalk before making an abrupt turn to the American Hotel. The front clerk smiled his toothless grin at him and nodded. Beside the door a young worker by the name of Tommy Clark was sweeping the dust which blew in the night prior. Hollister looked past him in the dining hall to see Pattie sitting, drinking coffee. He strode past the young man toward his target.

"May I sit down?" He kindly requested through gritted teeth. Pattie looked at him, shrugged, then motioned for him to sit.

"Just talked to your foreman."

"Hoot. Would you like an award or medal for being able to talk to other people?" She replied sarcastically. Hollister leaned in close.

"This is serious Pattie. When were you going to tell me about tonight?" Pattie looked up at the clock, then at him and sighed.

"When we drove by the office, I was going to pick you up. Look I got it all figured out. I take them to the ranch, have dinner and tell them we aren't ready to wed." She looked at the clock again and smiled.

"You need to tell your family the truth tonight or I will!" Hollister stated a tad bit too loud for the other patrons looked over at them.

"Clay, if you say anything to them, I swear. Now calm down and think about this rationally. The plan will work, have faith!" She paid her bill and pushed herself up from the table.

"Rationally? Nothing about this is rational!" Hollister hissed to her as he too pushed up from the table. He watched as she moved away from him toward the sweeper and proceeded to speak with him. Hollister placed his hat back on and moved away from the dining hall. He was so distracted he didn't notice Pattie blush or the subtle hand holding the couple had begun.

It was the evening hours when the pair met up again. Hollister rode beside the black buggy which was being driven by Mr. O'Connor. Beside him sat Pattie in a green plain patterned dress, black gloves, her Stetson, and brown riding boots. In the back seats, Mr. and Mrs. O'Tooley gazed at the beautiful scenery that encompassed them.

The ride took a total of thirty minutes. A black metal arc engraved with the letters P.O.T. entranced the newcomers. Beyond the arc, a long stoned road led to a gravel path toward the house. It was a fairly large house with four white roman style columns which looked to be protecting the large wooden door. Small green bushes stood in front of the porch, five on each side of the cobble path which divided them. The main house was a two story building with two large windows on the first floor and three smaller windows on the second. The house was painted in an off white color which coincided with the bunk houses which lay on either side of the main house. Ranch hands walked by smiling and waving as the group pulled up. Hollister hitched his horse to the rail and went to assist the ladies. Brian O'Connor took out his pipe and walked to the sheriff.

"Good luck!" He chucked before being pulled away by his men who mentioned something about a card game. Hollister rolled his eyes but secretly wished he could be lost in a poker match instead of dinner. Patrick O'Tooley patted his bloated stomach and smiled.

"That my dears, twas the best steak I have had in my entire life."

Pattie pushed her fist into her lips to stifle a burp that cause Hollister to slowly turn his head and look at her.

"Now do tell Mr. Hollister, how goes the average day on the ranch?" Hollister looked at Pattie who smiled back at him.

"Oh, um...the men wake up and get to work punching cattle." He stated before reaching for a glass of water.

"My goodness you punch your cattle?" Exclaimed Sarah O'Tooley while placing a hand on her chest.

"It's just a term mama. It means going out and handling the dumb witted animals. Most likely you aren't going to do much but get a cow angry if you punch it!" She laughed.

"How many cows you looking at?" Asked Patrick.

"Well, uh, I got..."

"He's got close to two hundred fifty head papa. Looking to expand to three hundred next year and drive them to the army post. He just got a contract with them!" Pattie remarked looking proud. Hollister looked at her surprised, his eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips.

"Look at that, sheriff and a cattleman. You've really picked yourself a man Pattie!" Patrick replied while sipping his glass of whiskey.

Pattie twirled her fork on her plate while she listened to her father explain how daft the captain on the ship they took over was. She finally dropped the fork and stared at him.

"Papa, we need to talk about the wedding."

"Yes the weddin! I was thinking we have a moonlight wedding in the catholic church. Can't be nothing but catholic and white, we need white!" He took another sip before continuing. "And we must make the Brothers as best men! They come tomorrow afternoon." Pattie choked on her lemonade, her eyes widening as she looked at a concerned Clay Hollister.

"Papa, there is no need to involve the Brothers. Why did you call upon them?"

"To approve of your husband choice. I know I have overall say, but they are family too!" "But papa, Clay and I have no intention of getting married now. That is why we invited you and mama out here. You can't run my life anymore I am a grown woman!" She yelled.

"Then start acting like a woman and not a child! I don't understand where this stubborn streak has come from. Maybe being in America has corrupted you too much. Should I take you back to Ireland with us?" He yelled back.

"You old fool, blind and deaf you are!" She bit her finger at the remark as she saw his head great red from anger. Sarah stood up attempting to cut the tension.

"Pattie, how about we clean the dishes like we used to back home." The calm, gentle voice guided both women into the kitchen leaving the men to sit uncomfortably in silence. They both worked in silence cleaning and drying plates before the older woman looked at her child.

"When I got your first letter, I was happy to see you made it to America safe. What papa couldn't see was how independent you became. I could tell from how you wrote that the man you described was just that, a man, nothing more. There is a darkness surrounding you child." She embraced her daughter. "I can see in those eyes you do not love this man."

"Oh mama, why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Stress tears rolled from her face as she sobbed into the bosom of her mother.

"Child, I wished to tell you, I did. You know how stubborn your father is and how much he loves surprises."

"Oh mama, how you could always see what I really mean. I do love another man and mama he is perfect! Handsome, kind, not afraid to tell me how wrong I am. But mama, papa would not approve. His family hails from England and you know papa's hatred for Englishmen." Her mother smiled.

"Is this wondrous place yours?" Her mother asked looking around the great kitchen.

"Oh yes mama. I built this place from the ground up. All of it is pure Irish sweat, I think even the cattle sweat a little green and gold. Please feel no anger toward Clay, he is just being a great friend and has no clue what is actually going on."

"How could I be angry at your friend. He is putting up with far more than what is asked." She held her child's face in her hands. "As much as I would love to, we cannot tell your father. The Brothers are coming and we don't want your friend to pounded into dust. We must devise a plan, but we can talk about that later. Let's go back into the dining room before your father makes himself look like a fool."

At the table both men sat quietly drinking from their glasses. "So, youngin, when are you giving it up?"

Hollister turned slightly toward Patrick raising an eyebrow.  
"Give what up sir?"

"The badge you young fool! When are you going to settle down and have a family?"

Hollister now stood and leaned over the table at the old Irish man. "Mr. O'Tooley, I have no intention of giving up this badge or of marrying your daughter."  
Both women walked through the door, the smile falling from their faces as the men stood toe to toe over the dining table.

"You'll be marrying me daughter Mr. Hollister. No one is running out on this family!" He narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger fighting the anger building inside of him.

"Clay!" Pattie yelled in the room cutting the rising tension. He turned to look at her. "You know, it's getting kinda late. Quint can't hold the office down by himself all night. I remember you telling me you had to do round tonight, correct?" He stared at Patrick as he drank the rest of his drink and then stormed out, Pattie walking behind him. He angrily put his hat on as they walked outside.

"I understand where you get your stubbornness from!"

"Clay, mama knows. But we can't tell papa, it's hard to explain, but keep on trustin that everything will turn out ok in the end." Clay turned to her mouth opened.

"Why?"

"Cause the Brothers are coming and you wouldn't stand a chance against them."

Hollister rubbed his face and nodded. "Yes, more family! I thought you said you were an only child?"

"I am and they are more friends than family. Papa thinks that everyone needs to approve our marriage. As long as you don't offend them, you should be fine. It's my cousin Michael McGregor you need to watch out for. Last I heard about him, though, is that he has been forced to the island Australia. One less worry right!" She attempted to sound hopefully, but to no avail. "I am keeping my family here tonight. Mama and I are planning a way to tell papa. Good night Clay and thank you."

He swung up on his horse and attempted a smile before saying good night and turned to leave. He strolled into his office around eleven fifteen at night. Quint had his feet propped up and hat tilted over his eyes. Clay smiled, walked past his deputy to check on his sleeping prisoner then went to do the final rounds.

The cold night air helped calm the anger that had build up in his system. He laughed to himself at the past events that have surrounded his cursed day. Hollister checked the general store's door before walking past the alley in between the building and the bank. Cold steel pressed against his back causing his hands to instinctively fall to his guns.

"Don't try it sheriff. Just gonna have a small discussion with you." "Little chilly out, why don't we talk in the office?"

"Here suits me just fine. I heard that you are engaged to Pattie O'Tooley. What gives you the right?" Hollister was caught off guard by the question as thoughts raced into his head. How did the familiar voice know of the supposed engagement? His eyes narrowed as his mind raced to figure out the man behind the voice. He felt the knife tip press against his back further.

"Hold up now! No need to get jumpy!"

"There you go, assuming I'm jumpy. This is anger sheriff, pure love filled anger. She is my girl, but no since you are the sheriff, a big man, you get to just take what you want!" Hollister felt the knife shift and took his chance by elbowing the stranger in the gut. He guessed right and caught the man off guard, he stumbled back choking for air. Hollister turned quickly gun in hand to find Tommy Clark angrily staring up at him from the ground.

"Alright, stand up and get going to the office." He motioned with the pistol. Tommy Clark pushed off the ground with his hands raised. The youngster was about two inches shorter than Hollister, a detail he never noticed til that night. They both walked through the darkness in silence. Quint had moved from the desk to an extra bunk in the jail cell leaving Hollister sitting on the edge of the desk, arms crossed staring at Tommy Clark sitting in the leather seat.

"You understand I could arrest you for threatening a law official? This one time only I will let you off since arresting you would cause more of a headache with Pattie." Tommy stared at the officer, not moving or speaking.

"Look boy, Pattie and I are not engaged!"

"Yeah? Well why did she cancel our dinner to be with you?" The man yelled as he stood from the chair. Hollister pushed him back down and pointed a finger at him.

"I don't know how you heard about this, but I can promise you, we are not involved. It's just complicated and I can't even describe this situation." He pushed himself up, hooked his thumbs into his back pant loops and turned his back to the young man.

"We've talked about her pa, he would never accept me. Did you know my father was an English lord and expected me to take over his lands? Well, I said no and came here to start my own future. With all that courage, I can't even talk to an old man!" He pounded the desk. "Maybe you could help me sheriff!" The young man stood excitedly. Hollister slowly turned; the look of excitement on his face.

"Of course! This nightmare could be over! I can escort you over to speak with him!" The happiness fell from Tommy Clark's face and he stepped back.

"I was hoping you could talk to him for me." He bluntly stated. Hollister took a breathe in, raised his right eyebrow and pursed his lips together. The young man smiled and ran out of the office before waiting for a response. Hollister gave up, he was tired of trying to comprehend anyone today. Slowly, he pulled off his black boots and plopped on his cot. Snoring soon echoed against the walls of the office.

April 24th,1883

Clay Hollister had begun his morning rounds as usual. As he walked through the brisk morning air, he noticed that the townspeople were giving him more attention then normal; longer smiles, winking, or pointing. He noticed his deputy stepped from the barber shop reading the paper. Quint noticed his boss coming over and attempted to escape, but was stopped by the call of his name. The young man slowly turned, pushing his hat over his eyes.

"Morning Quint, something that I should need to know?" He asked smiling and tilting his head.

Quint shook his head and tried to look as if he was thinking hard causing the sheriff to become impatient. He noticed the folded up newspaper under his deputy's arm and pulled it away. Quint rubbed his jaw as he watched the eyes from Hollister narrow. The sheriff turned abruptly and walked in the direction of the Epitaph. Quint nodded and walked across the street to the cafe.

"Yep, not going to that showdown." He mumbled to himself.

"Harris!" Hollister yelled while he opened the door.

Harris Claibourne sat in his chair, coffee in hand, sipping it periodically as if he had been waiting for the peace officer to arrive. Hollister stood in front of the man almost shaking with anger. He threw the paper on the desk causing other loose papers to float around.

"What is the meaning of this? You told me yesterday..." He paused as the editor put his hands up and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Hollister read it before throwing it back on the desk.

"You find this funny? See if I give you an exclusive next time!" He turned to leave, but stopped as he heard the editor's voice.

"I gave my word, nothing came from my mouth. This is non bias, fact telling paper Clay. If someone pays for a spot for an ad then I must oblige, I have bills to pay too!" He smirked as he began sipping the coffee again. Hollister shook his head and walked from the building. The sheriff made his way to the American Hotel when he noticed a congregation of women marching toward him.

"Morning ladies." He regretfully stated while tipping his hat.

"Sheriff Hollister, we ladies of Tombstone wish to congratulate you on your recent engagement to Ms. Pattie O'Tooley. Though it comes as a bit of a shock we are glad to hear that she will finally have good man to control her. There is some concern though, will you still be able to perform your job proficiently while you watch her too?" The elder of the group questioned the man.

The nightmare continued as other women voiced their opinions. Hollister stood his ground and listened while slowly becoming annoyed.

"Look ladies, there is no wedding and no engagement."

"But the paper says!" Cried the women. "I understand what the paper says, but the paper is wrong." He put his hands up to calm the banter from the women. The ladies huffed and walked away leaving Hollister standing in the middle of the street alone and frustrated. He saw Tommy Clark carrying a basket of laundry to the back of the American Hotel. He briskly walked to catch up to the young man. In the back alley, Clark was hanging the damp laundry on a wire. He turned and coward against a fence as Hollister approached him.

"You will find Mr. O'Tooley today and tell him that you are in love with his daughter!" Hollister hissed through his teeth. Tommy Clark shook his head side to side.

"To hell I will, that man will kill me and take Pattie away!" He stuttered out.

"Then let's go to my office now and I will lock you up. I am done with these childish games! Tell him by the end of the day or prepare yourself for living at the jail for sometime." Hollister left the young man shaking in the alley as he strode back toward his office. Different citizens wished him congratulations and good luck as he made his way back.

Quint was hanging the keys on their hook when Clay walked through the door. He threw his hat on the desk and unhooked his gun belt. Quint watched as he angrily sat in the chair to start writing in the log book. The deputy opened his mouth, but quickly shut it as Hollister spoke.

"If you say anything related to myself and the O'Tooleys, I will fire you on the spot." The deputy sat at the extra desk and began playing Solitaire.

Noon, the same day, the O'Tooley family drove into Tombstone in the black buggy. They all waited at the Wells Fargo stage stop while Hollister watched from his office widow. He watched as Tommy Clark began his trek over to the group of Irish people just as the stage pulled up. From the stage, two large burly men stepped onto the street followed by some handsome, well dressed ladies. Tommy Clark stopped in mid stride, about faced, and nearly ran back to the American Hotel. Quint, curious about why Hollister was staring out the window, joined him. He nearly choked on the apple bit in his mouth at the sight of the men.

"We, uh, going out ot meet them?" He asked reluctantly.

"You don't have to come along." Hollister replied while putting on his gear. The deputy smiled and grabbed his rifle, following the sheriff out the door.

The group of Irish people started for the American Hotel laughing and joking across the street. Hollister and Quint trailed the group from the boardwalk, meeting them at the entrance to the building.

"Excuse me folks, just wondering if I could talk to Ms. Pattie for a moment." Hollister asked as nicely and softly as he could. The group stopped, all eyes on the lawmen. Of the two large men, the biggest stepped through the group and squared up to the sheriff.

He was roughly a foot taller and three times larger than Hollister's stature. He wore a red checkered shirt with brown pants being held up with green suspenders. His cheeks looked swollen and his eyes blackish and blue. His tweed patchwork cap rested gently on his short cut red hair which mixed into his red scruffy mutton chops nearly hiding his mouth.

"You the man who is refusing to honor his commitment to marry?" The voice wasn't mean, but was deep and low.

"Well considering I never made a commitment, I'm guessing I'm not really refusing!" Hollister replied cooley. The smaller of two stepped forward. He was built and dressed the same way as the other , but wore a blue checkered shirt and brown tweed hat. His voice was a little higher than the other man's.

"When McGregor shows up, we'll handle you nice and proper! Right now Sean and I need some rest. We'll come find you tomorrow to settle this little problem of ours and teach you some good Irish manners." Spat the smaller man.

"Could oblige you right now!" Hollister smirked and waited for a response. The Brothers laughed and continued walking into the hotel followed by the rest of the group. Pattie was standing staring at the lawmen wearing a purple colored dress.

"Afternoon Clay." She stated plainly. "Fool thing you challenging the Brothers like that."

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked while taking her arm and walking her down the boardwalk. He pushed his hat back, crossed his arms, and kept his right foot on the step allowing himself to lean over slightly.

"The entire town knows about us!"

"I'm aware." She replied back. Her eyes drifted back to the man that swept the doorway staring at them. Hollister followed her eyes to the building and sighed.

"You should have told him." Hollister stated as he pointed to Tommy Clark. Pattie smiled. "No surprise you found out about us. How did you do it?"

"Let's just say my keen senses helped me out." He chuckled while rubbing his back.

"He's just scared Clay. I don't blame him for him acting the way he does. These are troubled times for us right now!" She remarked.

"Only because you two won't come clean. Just tell the family the truth!" He exclaimed throwing his arms in the air. Pattie grasped his arm and stared in him the eyes.

"Look Clay, just get out of town for a few days. McGregor is coming and will surely destroy you if you stay."

"I can handle myself."

"Maybe against the Brothers, but not McGregor. There was reason he was sent to Australia, all wild and crazy."

Hollister smiled and kissed her forehead. He turned and walked back down to the office with Quint.

Evening of April 24th, 1883,

Sheriff Clay Hollister and his deputy had just begun an intense card game at their desk when Sam the Bartender ran into the office. Beads of sweat dripped from his face and he dabbed at them with his white bandana. He panted as he stood in front of the desk.

"It's a madhouse sheriff! They ran every one of my regulars out, closed the gambling tables, and won't leave!" Hollister put his hand up to slow the plump man.

"Who are they?" He asked.

"The Irish bastards that came in on the stage. They and their kind took over the bar, it's chaos there!" Hollister and Quint pushed themselves up from the desk, grabbed their gear and followed Sam out the door. As they approached, the music grew louder and louder. A crowd had formed at the doors looking in at the scene. The three men had pushed their way through the crowd to behold the festive scene in the bar. On the stage a group of men playing various instruments; guitars, fiddles, mandolins, drums, spoons, bones, harmonicas and a single bagpiper. The tables were pushed aside to clear room for dancing couples. Men and women skipped, while others danced a fast pace in circles. They hooted and hollered with the beats and sang along when appropriate. The dancers clapped as the song ended, but soon were dancing as a fast drum beat accompanied by quick playing fiddles and bones began. Some young men jumped on the bar and began Irish step dancing around glasses of whiskey. Sam weakly smiled at Hollister and made his way back to the bar where a great cheer arose for his return. Sean was dancing with a young child when he looked up to see the lawmen standing in the doorway. He let a long bellow which was answered by the crowd; he gave up his partner to a young man who took her by the hands and they danced in circles.

"Sheriff Hollister! Glad for ya to be joinin the party!" He slapped the lawman on the shoulder nearly sending him crashing to the floor. Hollister caught his balance and approached the large man.

"Sam tells me that you are running off people from this establishment." Sean's eyes grew and he called for the other Brother.

"Brandon! Have ye been running off the good folk of Tombstone?" The half drunken man looked at Sean with wild eyes before speaking.

"I thought that was the plan to get the sheriff down here." They both swayed in place as they thought. Quint stepped forward to keep Sean on his feet, but was grabbed by a young woman who pulled him into the dancing mob. The Brothers turned to each other and laughed as they watched the deputy try to keep up with the music. Hollister searched for his deputy in the crowd, but only found Pattie dancing with her secret lover, Tommy Clark. They were smiling when they made brief eye contact with Clay before being swallowed by the crowd again.

"What the point of this?" Hollister yelled to Sean.

"We are prepping for tomorrow sheriff. One cannot go into a fight without being properly prepared first!" He exclaimed. A ranch hand popped around his shoulder and shoved a drink into Sean's hand, who downed it in a blink of an eye. Soon the Brothers were engulfed in the crowd which now grew as the townspeople were pushing their way into the party. The beat quickened even more causing hooting and hollering. Patrick O' Tooley grasped Hollister's arm and motioned for him to follow outside and away from the crowds to grow. The older man stepped out into the crisp air and lit his pipe; the smell of tobacco filling the sheriff's nostrils. Hollister leaned against the building, his arms bracing his backside as Patrick sat in a chair. Harris Claibourne was drawn from his office by the noise across the street.

"Sounds crazy inside. What the occasion?" He asked the silent men.

"Just the Brothers letting off some steam before tomorrow's big fight." Patrick replied while knocking some extra tobacco form his pipe.

"I love it!" Exclaimed Harris. He looked through the window at the cheerful crowd. "Aye, ya can't beat the Irish way! Gives cheer to all involved, doesn't do bad for the business either!" Harris entered the establishment to be swept up in the festives immediately.

"Mr. O'Tooley, how's your hearing?" Hollister asked as they watched a drunk man stumble down the street.

"I find it quite good for a man my age." He replied.

"Then why don't you listen when I say I am not the man your daughter loves?" Patrick remained quiet and continued smoking his pipe. "The man she loves is inside and dancing with her now. She's a smart lady clearly makes her own mind up, but I am not the man she wants" He pleaded.

"Your lies about another man won't retract my blessing on this wedding." Patrick flatly stated. Hollister stomped his foot on the ground in frustration.

"It's not me!" Patrick O'Tooley stood quickly grabbing Hollister by his shirt collar. "Listen boy-o, I won't say this again. You will be marryin me girl and not running out on her. If we have to beat this fact into you, we will. Her happiness is all we want. This fight tomorrow could end if you stop this fool notion of running out!" He kicked the sheriff in the shin before sprinting into the saloon.

"Stubborn old man isn't he?" Harris stated as he clawed his way from the crowds.

"With a mighty strong kick." Hollister replied while rubbing his bruised bone. Harris put his hands in vest pockets his thumbs remaining out.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Start my rounds and hopefully get some sleep tonight." Hollister replied smiling.

"That's not what I meant Clay."

"Tell Quint this needs to clear up by midnight." Hollister stated as he walked away from the wooden building.

As midnight approached, Hollister was strolling back by the saloon. The crowds had dispersed, the music all but finished. The remaining bodies included the Brothers, some ranch hands, Pattie O'Tooley, and Brian O'Connor.

"And all the harm I'd ever done." Sang Pattie. "To memories now I can't recall." The tune was mournful, but carried well and was hummed by the remaining people. Harris stepped out from around the corner.

"You missed a great time! Think Quint got his fill of dancing for the rest of the night. Some poor women had to help him walk out of here!" They chuckled together as they walked down the boardwalk together.

"What do you think for the headline tomorrow, 'An early Irish spring blooms in Tombstone'? Or how about 'A mismatched wedding?" Hollister stopped and stared at his friend before beginning to laugh. "You too fond of being a bachelor? Not wanting to give that life up?"

"Get some sleep. I won't answer any of your questions, might see an exclusive in the paper tomorrow. Big day of reporting coming in the next few hours!" Hollister slapped his friend on shoulder and continued down the boardwalk. He turned the corner to see Tommy Clark standing beside the door.

"Tomorrow sheriff, I promise, tomorrow I will tell Patrick O' Tooley who I am. Before the fight even starts, I will make sure I do it at daylight." He stated before running toward the American Hotel. Hollister smirked and opened the door to find Quint passed out in the chair; not even flinching as the sheriff accidentally slammed the door.

Early Morning of April 25th, 1883.

The town of Tombstone remained quiet, exhausted, and hungover from the night prior. On the street, a lone rider slowly trotted down the main stretch. The rider wore a brown, worn down tweed hat. His brownish red hair was slightly long, stopping just in the middle of his neck. He had a tight cropped, short cut beard and a faded bandana around his neck. He wore a tan, buttoned down shirt, once a long time ago was long sleeved, but now cut just above the elbows. His tan arms bore scars and a leather bracelet. Upon his hip, a single holster gun belt. He wore red mud stained tan pants over top a pair of leather brown boots. Across his saddle, a darker brown vest with two pockets.

Sheriff Hollister had just walked out of his office when he spied the rider in the street. They made eye contact, the rider spurred his horse forward; the sheriff badge glistening in the early morning rays. Hollister checked his pistols to ensure they were loose and ready to be used if needed. The rider slid from his white horse and hitched it to the rail. He approached the sheriff til they were close enough to smell the sweat from the each other.

"Morning." The stranger remarked as he took a cigarette from his pocket.

"Morning." Hollister replied. "What bring you to Tombstone?"

The man lit his cigarette and took a puff before responding. "Trying to find a man."

"Big town to find one man."

"Yeah, but this one is special. He is the sheriff of this town." The man stated while he took another puff.

"Well, that seems to narrow your search down. Seems like you found him. What next?" Hollister stood waiting, hoping this morning would not begin with bloodshed.

"Well Mr. Hollister, my name is Colman McGregor. Got a wire from Sean O'Keefe stating that you are running out on my cousin."

"The Brothers need a gunman to fight me?" The question took McGregor by surprise and cause him to drop his smoke.

"Who told you I was a gunfighter?" He questioned placing his hands on his chest and tapping it.

"Pattie made it very clear what kind of a person you really are. I also know you are from Australia and outlaws and criminals are sent to that hell hole." Colman nodded his agreement and hooked his hands into his belt.

"Pattie knew me as a child, but trust me I am not that man anymore! Let's step into your office please, this needs to be addressed." He motioned toward the door. Hollister allowed the stranger to go first. They walked in and settled down. Hollister grabbed two cups and the coffee pot and offered one to the man. He nodded a thank you and took the cup graciously.

"There has been a grave miscommunication Mr. Hollister. I am sorry if you thought I was here to gun you down. This gun here is not used to kill humans only the devil creatures that walk this earth. You know spiders and snakes." He took a sip of coffee and watched as the sheriff laughed a little. Harris Claibourne walked into the office. He shook the stranger's hand and they introduced each other.

"Don't worry Harris, you have missed nothing of importance yet." Hollister dryly stated.

"Thanks for the telegraph editor. It did cause me to hurry this trip."

The sheriff eyed both men. "Start from the beginning McGregor. How do you know Harris?"

McGregor smiled. "We never met before this moment. I was heading out this way already when I received his telegram." Harris interjected.

"You see Clay, when the Brothers started saying how McGregor was going to take care of this I wired around looking for him. Wasn't hard to spot this sore thumb out here! I wrote to inform him of how dire the situation was and what he was riding into."

"I know about Pattie and Tommy Clark and I fully support those two." McGregor stated. "After being sent to Australia, some missionaries came to 'save us' as they said. I joined up with that group and after a few got ordained. I was sent here to enter two people in to the great gift of matrimony. Mr. Hollister, I am a priest, not a gunman. Pattie wouldn't know that, communication was cut when they sent me away." Hollister slowly pushed himself from his chair and pointed at the stranger before pointing to Harris.

"How did you know about Pattie and Tommy?"

Harris smiled. "You aren't the only one with investigating skills!" Quint had stumbled out of the jail cell half awake. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

"I've heard it all, Clay getting married to a gunman turned priest." He mumbled while leaning against the wall.

"Now I understand the Brothers challenged you to a fight. You're in luck, I will be refereeing the fight. They dare not argue with a priest!" Hollister stared at the ground trying to comprehend the conversation.

"How come you don't dress like a priest?" Quint questioned.

"These are my traveling clothes, it's a pain getting dirt out of my other attire. Now if you don't mind, I need to change before the rest of the town wakes up." He nodded and smiled while leaving the three men standing in the office.

"Let me get this straight, you knew this whole time about Pattie and Clark, but never thought once to step in and help?" Hollister frustratedly said.

"As a reporter I felt it my duty to sit back and let the story create itself instead of interfere. Plus you're our sheriff and been in worse predicaments then this!" Harris smiled and went to open the door.

"Let's get some food into you before this fight in a couple of hours."

The town bustled as the hours ticked closer to the showdown; the Brothers vs Sheriff Clay Hollister. The fight would occur in the corral to ensure the daily traffic would not be delayed in the streets due to the unexpected crowd influx. Bales of hay were placed around for seating accomodation and the gamblers were huddled together casting lots on the winner. Hollister watched the excitement from his window.

"It's like the town hasn't seen a brawl before." He stated to himself.

"It's not just any fight Clay!" Pattie stood in the door in her normal ranch clothes attire. Hollister smirked at her.

"What's this? Done playin lady?" He chuckled.

"I couldn't do another day in a corset, those eastern girls can have that torture device."

"Town's making this a bigger deal than it should be." Clay stated as he stared out his window again.

"Clay, have you ever heard of Sean and Brandon O'Keefe? The Shanty Town Brothers?" Hollister shook his head.

"They're the top boxing champions on the eastern seaboard currently. No one is betting on you to win or survive a round against one of them." Hollister looked at his watch and began unstrapping his gun belt.

"Clay don't you hear me? You don't have a chance!"

The sheriff turned to her and smiled. "Fight won't happen, watch and see. I have an ace up my sleeve, should be put into play any moment now." He smiled, grabbed his hat, and strolled outside.

A large crowd had gathered around the standard size corral. The Brothers already were in the ring awaiting the sheriff. They stood shirtless bearing their pasty white skin covered in freckles and red hair. Father Colman McGregor stood in the center of the ring dancing to the Irish band playing beside the corral. He wore a black robe with rosary beads, hanging down his left leg which were attached to a leather belt. He still wore his brown boots and a green tweed flat cap. Pattie walked alongside Clay before she turned to him and whispered in his ear.

"They are weak under the armpit, rib cage area."

Hollister smiled. "Trust me, this won't even happen. Your young man is my ace!" He pushed the surprised woman away and hopped the corral fence; the crowd erupting as he entered the ring. Hollister looked around for Tommy Clark who was nowhere amongst the crowds. He instead found the American Hotel clerk sitting on hay eating popcorn.

"Where's Tommy?" He hissed at the man.

"Young lad was sent to Tucson to pick up some packages. Should be back before the fight is through." The color drained from Hollister's face ad he turned toward Harris, who stood in his corner with a towel ready.

"Of course." Stated the sheriff as he threw his arms in the air and walked to his friend.

"Take your tie off Clay, roll those sleeves up. Come now the fight is about to begin." Hollister allowed his friend to do the necessary adjustments to his outfit. Father McGregor motioned for the fighters to step toward him. Hollister stood at six foot one while his opponent, Sean, stood almost six foot seven.

"Alright now I want a fair clean fight. Let's say a prayer before throwing fists." Everyone bowed there head. "Heavenly Father, please allow both fighters to give their best and protect them from serious harm. Amen."

"Amen." Replied the crowd.

"Now shake hands and let's fight." Hollister stood up from his crouched position.

"What are the rules?"

"We'll make the rules up as we go." Sean stated while putting his hand out.

"Anything goes?" Hollister asked while shaking the hand.

"Till we agree on it otherwise." Sean stated as he threw a left hook into the sheriff's head causing him to immediately drop. The crowd let out a groan in unison as Hollister lay on the ground holding his head. He shook the stars from his eyes and stood up, hands ready. He dodged a right hook, then left, but the man's elbow caught him under the eye. He fell back once again, blood spurting from the cut on his cheek.

"Get up Clay! Throw a punch!" Harris yelled. Hollister brushed dust from his pants and smiled at the Irish man who smiled back.

"Not bad sheriff, other men would have passed out by now." Sean cupped both hands and threw them over Hollister's head causing him to duck down. The Irish man then threw his knee up crashing into the lawman's face and causing blood to splatter everywhere. Hollister lay on the ground fighting the feeling to pass out. The crowd was mixed with cheers and boos as the Irish man held his hands in the air taunting the people. Hollister pushed himself up and wiped his bloody nose.

"No...using..legs...fists...only." He spat out while still attempting to breathe.

"You heard him! First rule; no using your legs, fighting fair with fists!" Yelled Father McGregor.

Sean nodded his understanding and moved in to throw another punch. Hollister acted as if he was more injured then he was; when the big man approached, Hollister threw an uppercut with his right hand landing on the man's chin. The sound of bone hitting bone cause the crowd to become silent. The punch caught the big man completely off guard and cause him to stagger back. He shook his head as if to clear the dizziness from his eyes. He smiled at Hollister and began laughing.

"Good shot sheriff. First time I have been hit like that in awhile." They went back and forth trading blows before Father McGregor called time on the first round. Hollister stumbled back to his corner and fell onto the stool. Harris began giving him water and washing blood from his face.

"That boy's punches feel like a mule kick." He watched as Brandon stepped into the ring, he was fresh and jumpy as he approached the center.

"That is no fair! He's brand new, it's got to be against the rules!" Harris griped while he rubbed the now bare shoulders of his friend.

"What rules!" Hollister remarked as he was motioned back to the center.

"Remember no kicking! Now shake hands and lets go!" McGregor announced before stepping back. Hollister shook hands and prepared for the left hook. Instead, the young man pounced on his victim and began wrestling him. They grappled on the ground until Brandon rolled off wiping his eyes. He lay on the ground rubbing them motioning for the Father.

"No dirt in the eyes!"

"Aye, rule number two! No throwing dirt in yer opponents eyes!" The father yelled.

"Sorry." Hollister gasped as he lay propped on his elbows.

"All good, you didn't mean too." The Irish lad responded back.

"Ready?" He asked as he pushed up on his heels.

"Sure." Hollister replied. The two were once again throwing punches and grappling on the ground, occasionally stopping to add a new rule. Father McGregor called time on the round. Hollister stood up and created another rule.

"You're done switching. I can't go back and forth fighting two men and expect to win."

Brandon agreed to the new rule and walked toward his corner while the sheriff stumbled to his. He sat on the wooden stool and graciously took sips of water. Blood streamed down his forehead, cheek, nose, and chin. Claw marks were scratched across his chest, a bite mark on his shoulder. Hollister pushed up from his stool and stumbled to the middle again.

"Here we go again, the fight between Hollister and Sean. Reviewing the rules one last time. No biting, scratching, kicking, licking, dust throwing, clawing, poking eyes, insulting, and swearing. This is the last round, fight till you done."

The two men went at it exchanging fist for fist. Hollister threw a right fist into his opponent's temple causing him to crash to the ground. He stood above him, swaying side to side as he watched the big man slowly return to his feet.

"Good...punch." He gasped out. Sean grabbed Hollister around the waist and began squeezing causing the lawman to cry out. The two sank to their knees and exchanged punches in that position until they both collapsed backwards. The crowd went wild as both men lay fighting for air and strength to continue. Father McGregor waved his arms in the air calling the fight over. Both corners rushed to their men and helped them into a sitting position.

"Let's get them to the sheriff's office, doctor will meet us there." They helped the fighters to the building as the crowd cheered on even though the fight was over.

Hollister sat in his chair allowing the doctor to stitch a wound over his left eye. The Irish man stood against the wall drinking a bottle of whiskey. He smiled as the sheriff winced when the doctor finished. Patrick O'Tooley stood against the window smiling while Brandon leaned against the banister looking at his bruised fist. Pattie stood by the stove with her mother watching the fighters. The door slammed opened, the group to look up. Tommy Clark stood in the door fists balled and marched in the office.

"Boy you shouldn't..." Sean was slammed to the floor by a fist to his bruised ribs. Brandon was next as he was hit in the fractured nose causing him to fall to the ground too. He turned to Patrick and pointed his finger at him.

"You listen up and listen good. I am in love with your daughter, I am going to marry her when I see it fit. She loves me and we are going to build her ranch up and live here in Tombstone not back in Ireland. I am a full blooded Englishman and will fight every inch for your daughter's hand." The Brothers stood up and looked at each other before slapping the young man on the back.

"We approve! Takes a man to walk in here and say that." Patrick O'Tooley stood up and looked at his daughter. "Is this true?" She stepped forward and grabbed Clark's arm. "Yes papa it is!" Patrick looked at Hollister who held a bandana to his bloody nose and watched the scene unfold. "And you want along with this charade? Why did you not tell me you loved a different man? I only approved of him cause I thought you loved him. I prefer this young man over a sheriff any day!" Hollister stared in awe as the Irish man accused him of being apart of the deception. Pattie smiled and hugged her father. The group walked out leaving Harris, the doctor, and Hollister sitting in the office.

"Was not expecting that!" Came the voice from the cell.

April 30th, 1883.

It had been five days since the Irish Brothers had left Tombstone. They left behind a nearly broken sheriff and good memories. The O'Tooley family accompanied the duo on their return trip. Pattie and Tommy Clark were married before the departure of the Irish group by Father McGregor who also began his trek to the outback lands to help those who strayed from the path. Pattie Clark went back to running her ranch, while her husband finished up his last week at the American Hotel. Wells Fargo had offered him a job as a stage driver which he gladly took.

Sheriff Hollister made his rounds around the town. His face black and blue still from the brawl. He was pleased the town had returned to normal and that he was once again a single man. He was also pleased that Tully dropped the charges and settled the feud, as of now, with his neighbor. Quint met the sheriff outside the Epitaph.

"Look at the headline!" He pushed the newspaper into his boss's hands. The lawman, smiling, looked down to read the headline, "Wanted by Sheriff; woman who wants to settle down". Hollister pushed through the door of the Epitaph yelling at the editor, leaving his deputy chuckling on the boardwalk.


End file.
